Gotta Go My Own Way
by AnimeGirl 144
Summary: Set during the American Revolution. America has to go his own way if he wants to be a nation.


**So I'm back with a one-shot. I'd like to thank everyone who read **_Adventures of Sealand and America_**. It received more reviews than I had thought. After listening to the song "Gotta Go My Own Way," I figured it was a good song for a Revolutionary!America. I know the song is meant to be romantic, but I figured that it can work in a brotherly way. I'm going out of my comfort-zone a little since I'm dealing with a more teenaged America, but I think I can do it.**

**Point of view will be changing throughout the story, but the song is basically America's feelings.**

**Like before, I have only watched their dubbed anime and read only a few of the mangas. The rest of the information is coming from the wiki.**

**Also, I don't own Hetalia or the song "Gotta Go My Own Way" by Vanessa Hudgens.**

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Sighing, America looked down at the map set on the desk. Laying against the map was a hand-copy of the Declaration that Jefferson wrote for him. He glanced over the parchment, remembering the written words by heart. Even several years into the war, the dream still lived on. It wasn't that America hated England, it was just that he was tired of England's monarchy. His king and parliament had been passing too many laws that were anarchist, and America just couldn't stand them. It wasn't his fault that England felt the need to face France; nor was it his fault that it cost so much.

America didn't want to fight his older brother, but he found that there was no other way. When he was a child, he had always envisioned that he and England (now going under the name Great Britain) would live together. He was devoted to his older brother, and never, when he was a child, did he believe that he would have to face off against his brother... but things changed. England stopped visiting as much, and he regarded him as more of a colony than a brother. England forced America to wear poshed clothing, stating that he wouldn't be seen with him in public if he wasn't wearing them. He was embarrassed by America, and that had hurt the young man, who was already hurt by the fact that England hadn't visited as much as he promised. It was why America declared independence.

England wasn't too happy and kept sending him letters, pressuring him to surrender. America would have none of that; he was tired of being ignored and pushed aside. The king was furious, as was England, but America gave up caring a long time ago. They didn't consider his feelings, so why should he consider theirs?

He wasn't doing it to purposely hurt his brother, but he had to go. He had to grow up. America wanted to be a great nation and live up to his brother's standards; he wanted to be like his brother. He didn't want to be an empire, but he wanted to be strong. He had always wanted to be strong, strong enough to protect England from France and others who would want to hurt him, but now he wanted to be strong enough to sustain himself and to prove to England that he could do things on his own.

America blinked as he found his eyes misted over. Rubbing his fingers, he found that they were moist. Thinking about his past always caused him to cry in private. He cared deeply for England, and the fact that for most of his life he'd been alone caused him to tear up. To the public, he acted like he enjoyed being alone; independent. The truth was, that America still wanted to be close to his brother, he just wanted to be his own self.

Separating was harder than he thought. At first, it seemed easy, but after some time, he discovered it wasn't. England was obviously better off. He had more people, the weapons, the uniform, the training, everything! The only thing England didn't have was the passion that America had. The passion had lasted them through the ups and downs up until France, Spain, Prussia, and the Netherlands (America had to keep him and Spain from each other) offered their assistance. He knew that France was a personal enemy of England, and it had set England off if the letter was anything to go by, but it was unavoidable. America wanted freedom, and he'd take all the help he could get.

***Time Skip***

England's troop was all dead. He was now forced to face America and his troop alone. But that was fine with England; he'd fight alone if he had to. He was _not_ losing America! Couldn't the boy see how hard England was fighting for America? The boy was the only one who ever cared for him, and England just _couldn't _lose America.

England stood, holding the musket's end in America's face. The boy didn't look afraid, just a bit surprised. Was England going to pull the trigger? Was he going to kill America? England's eyes watered, as memories of little America, his little colony, filled his mind. One stood out in particular. It was a memory of him and America after a day of playing. England had held out his hand to America and said, "Let's go home." He could no longer say that to America anymore. He couldn't; not now. It was over.

America won.

He dropped his musket and began to cry. He couldn't shoot his little brother, and if he couldn't shoot him, he couldn't have America back as his colony. He'd lost America. He didn't care that he looked weak before America and his troop; he couldn't avoid it.

"It's not fair," England cried.

"I'm sorry England," America whispered as he turned away from his crumpled former caretaker.

He didn't want to hurt England, and it hurt to hear the strong empire to cry in the rain, but America had to do what he had to do.

And now, he was free.


End file.
